Three Coeurls
by LunarBlade Valentine
Summary: A year after communicating that he had survived, Balthier decides to show up at her castle, and for the strangest reason. Queen Ashe, understandably livid, needs not this sky pirate meddling in her affairs. So why does it feel so good to see him? And why is she compelled to search for him afterwards? BalthierxAshe romance.
1. Chapter 1

**Three Coeurls**

By LunarBlade Valentine

Synopsys: A year after communicating that he had survived, Balthier decides to show up at her castle, and for the strangest reason. Queen Ashe, understandably livid, needs not this sky pirate meddling in her affairs. So why does it feel so good to see him? And why is she compelled to search for him afterwards? BalthierxAshe romance. Possible part 1 of 2. Depends on reviews.

Spoilers: This happens after the end of the game, so yeah. I imagine there are spoilers.

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><p>Queen Ashelia stormed out of the meeting room. The men of the fishery coalition refused to listen, so she refused to sit and listen to them demand to open Bahamut Lake to fishing traffic. They refused to acknowledge that opening the lake to traffic would mean scavengers going into Bahamut. No one enters it, she mandated, and no one has in the two years since it crashed. Fish loved the lake, it's warm, clear waters had visitors and bathers flocking to it under the scorching desert sun, but it was forbidden to birth a boat. Even a rowboat could get you fined. So far fishers had stuck to the shores, but the bathers scared away the fish. They wanted a royal decree to allow them boats, but Ashe refused. She had been refusing for two years.<p>

The first year she refused because she thought it was a tomb for a man who had sacrificed too much...

And then the ring. The only word from him. He was alive. Hadn't come to see her. She pushed him from her heart as the crown was rested on her head.

And then another year of denying the boats on grounds of the sheer amount of technology that could be stolen from the wreckage. An entire year of trying to express that she didn't need a husband, and that Dalmasca didn't yet need an heir. A year of turning Dalmasca to a Republic but they still insisted they needed a clear line of succession.

She was livid. When she had asked for refreshments and the maid, in her haste, spilled her glass of water on the queen, she nearly bit the poor girl's head off. She felt bad after, as she was dabbing at her silks with a kercheif, hidden away in an alcove, but a queen couldn't apologize. The maid would just have to get thicker skin, as she was fairly certain the woman ran off to cry somewhere. She had been on edge since the assassination attempt last week. The second in the year since her ascension. She had been knocked down by a guard as shots fired. No one was killed and the assassin was captured; an Archadian loyalist. The Emperor Larsa of Archadia denounced the attacked, calling it a crime against peace, but that was all that could be done before the man faced trial. Then the cries for an heir to secure Dalamsca's future became deafeningly louder. Her reign so far was prosperous for her country, and Rabanastre flourished. But if there was one spot that mired it thus far, it was the people's fear that they would lose their monarch yet again.

After it was no longer effective to dab at the spot on her dress, she flung away the useless kerchief, intending to get changed before her next meeting with tourist board and the inns and bait and tackle rights for the lakefront. How much of her life now revolved around that accursed lake! It brought fresh water closer and safer than the Giza Planes, was beautiful, and symbolized to the people a grand new age for Dalmasca in general and Rabanastre in particular. For Ashe it symbolized many other things, few of them pleasant. Still, she preferred the topic of the lake to the topic of her marriage..

A servant entered the room she had been hiding in and said,

"Your majesty," She was about to shoo him away him if not for the slight tremor in the man's voice, "There's a man here to see you."

"There are many people here to see me." She said without patience, "I have a meeting in just a moment. Who does he think he is that I should see him without invitation?"

"He… I don't know how he got into the castle, my Lady, but he said to say he hopes you enjoy having the ring back…?"

She froze.

"Should I call the guards…?"

Her heart hammered in her chest. What could that insufferable man want with her? They had not spoken since that fateful day!

"M'lady…?"

"What?" She snapped, then remembered his question. "No. Do not call the guards. Bring him hither."

"He…" The man looked highly uncomfortable, licking his lips,. "He said it would be best if you went to see him." His tone indicated he was aware of what an imprudent thing that was to say. His expression indicated he expected the man to be expelled from the castle post haste, so he was very surprised when the Queen huffed out a "Take me to him."

He was sitting in a small meeting room barely fit for four people in the long-unused part of the castle. How he got there and how did he find it was a mystery, but one she was willing to defer discovering. He was furnished with a glass of wine and seemed a bit travel-weary. But still the sight of him, even in a white cotton shirt, no vest, and his hair having cut short and grown out again, now longer than she was used to, made her innards react in all sorts of ways. He was as handsome as ever, his eyes not even on her as she entered and was left alone with him at her command. His eyes were on his wine. The nerve! She wanted to cross the table and throttle him.

He glanced at her at length, watched her seething, and grinned, rising the glass in a toast even as he didn't rise from his chair.

"Ah, there you are." He said conversationally. Her jaw was clenched so tight her teeth were aching and her hands clasped in front of her so tightly she was worried she'd draw blood. She forced herself to calm down and said coldly,

"How are you."

"As well as can be expected of a dead man, princess."

"It's 'your majesty' now."

"I prefer 'princess'. Much cuter." She wanted to call the guards to beat him.

"It's customary to stand when the queen enters the room." She seethed.

"I read that somewhere, yes." He agreed in a drawl, still smiling and taking a sip of wine.

"It's a sign of _respect_." She intone, her voice a dangerous lake of ice he was treating on. He met her eye again, mirth in his own.

"I've seen you covered, in order of viscosity: in water, wine, blood, smile ooze, mud and one cherry jubilee, it having escaped Penelo's consumption by jumping into your lap."

She remembered each one painfully clearly. He continued,

"My treating you like a human being _is _my sign of respect for you, princess."

Was her guillotine still functional? Dalmasca had abolished death by beheading some years into her father's rule.

"Why didn't you tell me you were alive?" She snapped. He grinned bitterly to himself.

"It's complicated." He answered.

She could get his head stuffed and then have her favourite part of him, sans the wit. The sooner she got this scoundrel out of her palace the better. What a reunion.

"What do you want?" She was still standing by the door, he was still sitting, easy as a Sunday morning, at the table.

"Ah, yes." He said, as though the contemplation of the wine had drawn his mind off of matters. He reached down unto a duffle he had at the foot of his chair and pulled out a sheathed long dagger. Her first reaction was a startle, that he could so easily bring a weapon into her palace, but then she recognized it as her own.

"I'm settling some affairs," He said, looking intently at her reactions, "And found this. It belongs to you and I thought I shall return it." He pushed it across the table towards her. It was a simple, elegant blade that the head of the Palace guard had given her at the beginning of the war. He told her that all the guards in the world were no match for self-reliance. He told her to keep it on her, and she did. And she did indeed intend to end her own life with it when it all went straight to hell.

"It seemed to have ended up amongst my possessions." He elaborated briefly.

"I wonder how _that _happened." She said, dripping sarcasm. He replied only with a smile, letting the jibe slide off. How did it end up with him? Their possessions had been stolen from them, scattered, misplaced, confiscated and redistributed so many times that she knew he had likely not stolen it. She had this inexplicable urge to hurt him, though. "It's such a simple, common thing." She said disdainfully, picking it up and unsheathing it to observe its status, "What would possess you to imagine I would want it? I can buy a dozen of these, and finer, too." Had he really come all the way in order to return it? There was probably a request or a favour coming.

"In light of current events I thought you ought to have it." He said, his smile fading for the first time. He was referring, she knew, to the assassination attempts. "Nothing stopping you from discarding it at your earliest convenience."

It was a sturdy Dalmascan steel blade, about the length of her forearm. It was easily concealed upon her person either at the small of her back or at her boot. She used it extensively on their adventures: Everything from an emergency weapon to snipping of herbs for the evening meal. Baltheir continued after giving her pause to contemplate it,

"You can throw it aside easy as anything," He reiterated, "But I rather hoped it would remind you of the woman who could take out three Couerls. She was much more sincere than queen Ashelia."

Her gaze, fiery with rage, snapped to him as the dagger snapped back into its sheath.

"What?"

"Working at the palace is called 'the dreaded honor' I hear. The rumors of your temper have spread far and wide, your majesty." He said her title like one would describe a snake, and she lost all pretenses of regality.

"How dare you, you sky pirate?! What would you know about leading a nation?" Her voice was loud and shrill and she cared not who heard it. She had thought him dead, mourned him for a year and he thought he could just- just-!

"I've lead this nation from ruin to prosperity!" She screamed. His face was passive, intent. She'd seen that look on his face before. She had labelled it 'mild disdain'. To have it directed at her made the blood boil in her veins.

"Yes, I heard you're turning Dalmasca into a republic. Well done," He mocked, "Helping the common folk by allowing those with money to dictate the rules. Yes, very well done."

"How dare you?!" She howled again, fists clenched at her sides, one closed tightly over the dagger in its sheath. "You vanish as it suits you and show up like an unwanted disease," she spat, "Coming here with this trinket and telling me my business. I don't care what other pearls of wisdom you've come to impart, Balthier, but get out this instant before I have my guards clamp you in irons, you lout! You're a wanted man in Dalmasca!"

He eyed her cooly, still sitting casually, then broke eye contact, examining the glass of wine with its beaded sweat.

"Indeed, I am a wanted man." He muttered to himself, looking unsurprised at her outburst, "I figured my visit would end thus." He sighed imperceptibly, then grinned mirthlessly and raised his glass again. "As you wish, majesty." She hated how he said her title, "Just as I finish this fine wine. Waste not want not, hmm?"

She stomped out of the chamber, barked at her chancellor to cancel any and all afternoon appointments and escaped to her room where she proceeded to throw the dagger in a corner and throw a magnificent tantrum, screaming at the wall and throwing her pillows around. She even attacked the posts of her bed with them, yelling the best obscenities the underbelly of Rabanastre had taught her at the sky pirate.

He had called her monstrous! The gall! The nerve! The sheer uncaring meanness of it! She thought him dead not a year past! What had he sacrificed? He ran once everything calmed down, not bothering to show his face for two years. She could have used his help!

She threw herself on her bed, feeling not an ounce better. She felt drained, hollow. Not how she thought her reunion with him might go. Never dreamed he would fling such insults at her or show her such disrespect. Thought maybe…

_The woman who fought off three coeurls…_

She was the one on guard duty, somewhere between here and there, between hell and hellfire. The coeurls had tried to sneak on them, and Ashe had used the very blade he returned to her to make short work of three of them before the commotion stirred the party out of their tents. It had been towards the end of their journey, when they had honed their minds and bodies to fine fighting machines. Three coeurls were nothing, really. But the rest took care of the remaining two beasts and Baltheir had given her such a grin.

"Princess," He had said, "You're a wonder of the world, you are. We were right here, you know, could have called us." He had winked at her.

She didn't understand at the time. Not the flirty wink, for she had not the farthest thought of romance then, and not the statement. Still didn't.

The woman who fought off three coeurls…

Had he meant the assassination attempt when he spoke of recent events, or of her temper? She picked up the blade and unsheathed it, watching the steel glint in the candle light. The blade was plain, utilitarian. Not fit for a princess, but fit for battle. She could have had an engraved, ornate thing, but she, despite her previous words, liked this one. It served a purpose, didn't get bogged down with unneeded decorations, didn't need to shout to make a statement…

And then she realized she had been wrong.

And she realized what he had meant.

And realized, perhaps, why he wanted to call her 'princess'.

And then she felt ashamed.

She looked down at her over decorated gowns. She had chosen them each to add regality to her visage. Was nervous, right after the fall of the Bahamut, that her war-like demeanour and young age would make the powerful men in the country belittle her. She still wore them; elaborate, inflexible garments that cost a fortune each. She might have been able to dodge her assailants without the assistance of her guards had she been wearing practical clothes...

She had forgotten about the woman who fought off three coeurls.

The woman sat up, looking at the now less than perfectly ironed dress, a fancy sheath for the plain blade that she was. Thought of her shouting at the fishermen earlier…

Balthier had become their leader then without anyone actually discussing it. She had crashed into him in the sewers, literally and proverbially at her lowest point. Cornered and on the run, he was suddenly there. Suddenly he was calling the shots and she was under his protection and under his wing and it felt as natural as breathing. When Vaan so much as made a suggestion she shot him down, but when Baltheir suggested a course of action they were on it before she could think to protest.

How did he do that?

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><p>Chapter 1. I told myself I've quitted Fanfiction, but now I understand that that is impossible. I never want to stop being inspired by others around me. I'll keep writing fanfiction for as long as I feel like. I have been concentrating much more on my personal projects, like my webcomic, but I will finish this story. Next chapter should be up on Sunday.<p>

Let me know what you think? I love long reviews best. If you have any questions let me know in the comments and I'll gladly answer in the author's notes of next chapter. That's where I also thank reviewers who leave detailed comments!

Ever yours,

~LunarBlade


	2. Chapter 2

The woman who fought three coeurls. She had been confidant without needing to shout or overdress. Didn't care whether or not the team had seen her dispatch foes with ease. Rather she did what needed to be done. She wasn't on display, an entire nation watching her every move, but rather she was…

Herself. The woman who had fought three coeurls.

She got up, tidied herself and changed into a cotton house gown. Not ideal but the dress was a mess and she didn't feel like calling a maid to help her fit into a new one this late in the evening.

She made her way to her chancellor's quarters and knocked. He was with his family at this time of night, being recently married with a young daughter. He startled at seeing her at his door and ushered her in as he urgently ushered his wife and child into another room.

"Your majesty." He bowed deeply, and suddenly she wished she had cultivated an easy rapport between them.

"Chancellor," she started, now calm and slightly abashed at her previous behavior towards him. She admitted to herself, to her shame, that she didn't remember his first name. "Thank you for seeing me this late."

When she was quite young she had broken a cup. She had said she was sorry that she broke it, and her father took her aside, away from the servants and told her that royalty never apologize, and never admit their mistake, lest it be used against them.

"Say 'the cup is broken'." He had instructed her sternly, "Say 'I shall have it fixed. Concentrate on actions, not the mistakes of the past."

She smiled to herself at the memory and said, "It has been a trying time, has it not. I have been… Overstressed."

The stillness of his face and expression was verging on saintly, considering her understatement. "It has been a challenging year." He conceded very carefully, off-put by having the queen in his home and in such modest attire. She felt sympathy for him for the first time since she had hired him a year ago. There was no affection or concern in his features, just a wariness. It stung. How had she never seen it before? Because she didn't look.

...Why had Baltheir come? Why today of all days? Was there a request in there, had she let him speak his mind?

She brought herself back to the now and the painful silence that was stretching between them. He had not yet offered her a seat or a drink. Too stunned. She decided to forgive him.

"I shall not keep you long," She started at last, "I have decided to take a vacation."

"A… vacation?!"

"A week to be precise. I intend travel."

"Now?"

"No." She chuckled, "Tomorrow."

He reeled back, "Tomorrow?! That is not enough time to prepare-"

"You misunderstand." She said firmly. "I will be travelling without an entourage."

"But-"

"I want you to summon to me the sky captain Vaan and his partner Lady Penelo. I want them in my offices no later than noon tomorrow." She instructed.

"But your majesty's safety-"

"Will be assured with those two. The fewer people who know my itinerary, the safer I shall be."

As he coped with those news she tried to calm him;

"The senate has been going for very nearly a year now. If they can bring down Dalmasca in a week then they will succeed where even the mighty Archadia had failed." He failed to enjoy her joke. She continued,

"Tomorrow I also require a full report from the book of peerage regarding the Archadian house Bunansa."

"By tomorrow morning?" He seemed stricken and pale. If she said yes now he'd have to work through the night to gather the information. She said,

"You may, of course, delegate this task, and if the report is on my desk by noon, that will be satisfactory." He visibly relaxed, though he was still stunned. Before he could continue to protest she thanked him for his time and left.

She slept soundly that night. Better than she had in almost two years.

.

Ashelia woke up with the usual morning maid bringing her breakfast. She didn't even know this woman's name, her mind usually engrossed in the schedule of the day and any early correspondence. She tried to ask a few conversational questions of the woman, but the latter answered politely and escaped at the first opportunity. Usually Ashe didn't notice the silence in her room over breakfast. Today it was deafening, and the sounds of her own chewing distastefully loud in her ears. She glanced over correspondence that would usually engross her, but now found that none of it seemed so very urgent. She spent the first idle morning in years, though a good chunk of it was rummaging through her wardrobe for travel clothes that didn't take at least two people to fit her into. She was seated at her desk in her office when Penelo was ushered in. The girl had grown in the last two years to a true example of Dalmascan beauty. Strong yet feminine, tanned skin and sun-bleached hair. Still, that confident stride was gone the second she laid eyes on the queen. Ashe had not seen her since the coronation, the same day she knighted her and Vaan both.

"Ashe, so good- I mean-" The young woman stammered, "Your majesty-" She remembered to curtsy, poorly, "It's so good to see you."

Was it a sign of respect? Or was it a sign of fear from her once-friend?

"Penelo," Ashe couldn't stop the smile that spread on her face. "Where's Vaan?"

She internally cringed at her own words. She was delighted to see Penelo, Vaan or no. The girl curtseyed again, not knowing etiquette.

"Err… He's out galavanting with his young friend." She tried. Then realized that said nothing and altogether the wrong thing at once. She curtseyed again and said hastily, "He's helping out a young man with a problem." Again it came out wrong and she bobbed again and was about to try another way but Ashe rose from her seat to approach her. She placed a friendly hand on the woman's arm to stop her from curtseying every sentence.

"You're trying to find a subtle way to say he's helping Larsa with his current issues?" Relief washed over Penelo's face and she nodded nervously. Larsa had been trying to reconvene a senate in his Empire, as well, but the batch that had gathered were corrupt enough to earn the ire of the people and therefore their young emperor. So he disbanded them (some he even had to arrest) and that caused a lot of trouble. Penelo knew not where to look with the queen so close.

"Err…" She stammered, "You called for me, your majesty?"

How easily are the bonds of friendship weakened to silk-thin, Ashe wondered. They who had risk life and limb together now awkward and uneasy.

"I'm delighted to see you." Ashe said, trying to infused her voice and expression with as much warmth as she could. Penelo then met her eyes with bashful joy. Ashe said,

"It is just a well that you are here alone. I think we shall enjoy ourselves greatly." She then stepped back towards her desk, beckoning Penelo to follow. The young woman was wearing casual clothes, as she hadn't the time to change ere the messenger brought her before the queen; a pair of loose dancer pants pinched at the ankles, and a small top that anywhere else would be considered immodest if not for the scorching Dalmascan days. "I am looking to hire your services as a pilot- you still have your ship?"

"Oh, yes!" Penelo said with enthusiasm, "Vaan disappears so often with the Skyhawk that I got my own license and ship, the Faris Rose."

"That's a lovely name." Ashe smiled. Penelo giggled,

"There's no way Vaan would ever pilot a ship with such a name, so I made sure to keep it!" She laughed, the sound of it carefree and joyous.

And then Ashe realized how much she cared for this young woman and how, in a way, she was envious of her. Of her life, her strong idea of who she was. Then Penelo sobered a little to ask, "You want to hire me? The Faris Rose is hardly fit for a queen and her entourage!"

"I plan to travel light. Just me and you." The queen stated, pointing at the map laid out on her desk. "Here, and without fanfair."

Penelo leaned in to study the map.

"That's on the doorstep of the Archadian capitol." She observed with curiosity, "Are we going to help Larsa?"

"No." Ashe said, lifting the stack of papers her chancellor had nervously provided her, "We're going sky pirate hunting."

Penelo's face was first surprised, then delighted.

.

The Faris Rose was a tiny skiff. It was little more than a glass orb with massive wings and a tail, making it look a little like a dragonfly. It had room for two, with a large single backseat that could comfortably seat two more, three if they were comfortable with some intimacy. There was a back hatch for cargo and that was that. The rest was engines, for the Faris Rose was as fast as the Strahl.

Penelo was still nervous around her during the flight to Archadia. Even with the queen trying to insist that Penelo call her Ashe as she had before, Penelo seemed jumpy and slightly reluctant to look her in the eye.

"It's just that you're all so grand now…" Explained the young woman nervously, "I'm still just a street girl, knighted or no."

"I've given you land and title! You're a peer of the realm now."

"But I'll always be just a slum girl, deep down." She said. She didn't seem ashamed of it. In fact, she seemed to hold on to it as a point of pride. "And you're a born and bred queen."

"I'm still me." Ashe said, though she herself knew not what that truly meant.

"I know." Penelo said, "Just give me time. We haven't spoke in ages! I'm sure you've been so very busy!"

Not busy enough to justify shoving those who helped her get her throne out of her life. Not busy enough to justify how nasty she was becoming. She said nothing about that, but tried to engage her pilot in pleasant chatter.

While Vaan opted for some limited munitions on the Skyhawk, Penelo spent a fortune on her tiny vessel to get it the Strahl's speed and form of cloaking.

"The Bunansa ancestral estate should be right over… there…" Even as Penelo lifted a hand from steering to point, the estate came into clear view.

What was left of it, at least. Half of it was being carefully demolished, entire stacks of bricks neatly arranged on a trodden path towards the city.

"What is going on?"

"Let's land and ask!"

.

The two women (Ashe armed with her dagger, well hidden, and Penelo with her bow slung across her back) arrived at the estate. The workers knew little more other than the place was sold by the owner and was to be destroyed, its materials used for the new area of town that was to be here, but one of them mentioned they had seen the old groundskeeper around one last time. It took some time but the girls located the man just as he was leaving the remains of the front gate.

"Sir!" Called Ashe, jogging towards him. She was quickly out of breath and made a mental note to exercise more. "Pray, wait a moment."

"I'm not longer in charge of anything here, m'lady." Said the old man, looking surly.

"We're looking for the Bunansa family!" Penelo chirped, also winded. The man frowned.

"There ain't no more Bunansa family." He scowled, "The mother long dead, the father murdered and the son a scoundrel not seen in these parts for ages. The only ones left are me and the old matron, yonder in Archadia's finest home for the elderly. Bother me not." And he trudged off with an air of a man who said his piece.

The women watched him leave in a moment of silence.

"He sold the place? Why would he do that?"

Ashe shook her head. She hadn't counted on this. Their first meeting hadn't gone well, and now she regretted screaming and storming out instead of asking how he might be reached.

"Let's go see about this Matron."

"Why? Do you think she would know where he is?"

Ashe shrugged. "At the moment it seems to be our only lead." Lacking any evidence to the contrary, Penelo agreed.

.

They found the woman just where the groundskeeper had said; at Archadia's finest care home for the elderly. The place was nearly as nice as the queen's own palace in Dalmasca, and she refused to admit that the Empire's introduction of air conditioning made it far more livable.

They were directed by the friendly caretaker to a particularly old woman sitting on a sunny balcony with a shawl draped around her shoulders. They approached and introduced themselves, Ashe picking up the name Amalia again.

"We're looking for Balth- For Ffamran." She said. The old woman blinked nearly closed eyes and tried to study her guests through the film of years.

"Another heart break, eh?" She said, laughing to herself. "Ffamran was always a handsome boy." She nodded to herself. "Always alone, though. Even now. Came to say hello and goodbye to his nana, he did. Parents never around, his dad was always with his work… Ffamran always with his nose in a book…" She was muttering, barely acknowledging her guests, her mind in the anals of her memories. "I told him then and I told him again; find yourself a nice woman who shares your intellect. I told him then and again; find yourself a man, even. I care not. Just stop being so alone. That kills the soul, it does… I told him then and I told him again."

The girls exchanged a look, and Penelo tried,

"Do you know where we can find... Ffamran?"

"He's never at home anymore… Used to be with his nose in a book, asking nana about this and that… I wish he had never been pushed to become a Judge… Such a good boy…"

Penelo gave a start, and the two women thanked the matron for her time, though she didn't really seem to notice, and they left.

"A Judge?" Penelo asked, "Surely she is mistaken?"

"Not now" Ashe said, distracted. She was hard at work trying to devise a way to locate their wayward sky pirate. She noticed Penelo's expression of hurt and realized she had snapped at her. She placed a hand on her shoulder and forced down a breath. "Yes, he was a judge, but he ran away from all that." She drew back, tapping her chin. The caretaker who had directed them to the matron approached and said,

"Oh, you two. Thanks so much for visiting her!" She bowed a casual welcome and Penelo bowed back. Ashe hadn't even considered it, deep in thought. Penelo gave the girl an apologetic smile and replied,

"No worries. We're friends of the man she used to take care of."

"Oh! That handsome bloke?" She fanned herself, "He can visit me any day!" The two girls laughed, and the caretaker sighed,

"He said he won't be coming by anymore, though."

"Oh? Any reason?" Penelo asked worried. Now even Ashe was paying attention.

"I dunno." The girl shrugged, "Said he'd only come to set his affairs in order, to make sure she was taken care of."

"Did he give you an address?" Ashe demanded. The girl was a little startled and Ashe cursed herself again at her aggressive tendencies.

"That's the thing: He said he no longer had an address for the bills, so he wanted to pay for as long as she'd need it."

"How would he know how much to pay?" Peleno wondered.

"He put down…" The girl looked left and right, then leaned in to whisper a secret, "He left _thousands _of gil. We might have to start worrying about his payments if she lives to be a hundred and seventy, otherwise…"

"But when she does pass," Ashe said bluntly as the other two cringed, "What happens to the excess money?"

"I heard we were given instructions to split it between the Dalmascan Reconstruction Fund and the Archadian War Orphan Charity."

After some more pleasantries from Penelo, the two of them left. Ashe was still tapping her chin, worry gnawing at her mind. Penelo was trying to get her attention, and it was very irksome.

"What?" She snapped at Penelo again, as the girl shrank back. Ashe sighed. It was hard, never apologizing. She said softly, "What was it you said?"

Penelo smiled and asked, "Where to now?"

"I'm not sure." Admitted the queen.

They headed back to the ship, but she was ill at ease.

"When's the last time you've seen Balthier?" The queen asked her companion as they climbed into the ship.

"Just a couple of weeks ago in Dalmasca. It had been the first time I'd seen him since..."

"What did he want?" They were sitting in the ship, still shut down. They had no destination.

"He gave me this." Penelo drew a beautiful necklace from inside her bag. The pin was studded with diamonds and was fit for a woman of high birth. "He said this," She let Ashe hold the pricey, beautiful necklace, "He said was his mother's."

"Why did he give it to you?" She was astonished. Balthier was always kind to the girl, but never showed her any preferential treatment. A necklace like this would have sat comfortably with Ashe's own crown jewelry. Why had he given Peleno this and to herself he could only spare a dagger that used to belong to her anyway?

"It is very pretty." Penelo admitted, looking to have her reservations about it, "But since I don't live in the best part of Dalmasca I have to carry it everywhere with me lest it be stolen. I don't know when I'll ever wear it!"

"I'll invite you to more balls." Ashe smirked, but Penelo looked aghast.

"Oh, heavens no! Please don't!" She looked so genuinely distraught, and then immediately so abashed that Ashe burst out laughing, throwing her hands around the girl's neck.

"But why did he give it to me?" Penelo returned to the original question, still a little flushed, "I don't know. Maybe he's trying to let go of the past and start over, have a proper job or sumsuch?"

"Can you imagine it? Him working at a shop?"

They stared at each other then both burst out laughing at the thought. Penelo pulled the notes Ashe had handed her in regards to his family, and started leafing through them, handing half to the queen.

"I feel a bit bad going through his personal files like this…" Said the young woman.

"This is all stuff easily found in the book of peerage. You're in it, too."

"What is this book?" Penelo asked, perhaps a little worried. Ashe smiled as she let her eyes skim the pages, trying to find that one bit of info that might shed light at Balthier's whereabouts, if possible.

"It's a book distributed once a year to all peers of the realm telling them who's who and who's married to whom."

"That sounds dull." Penelo pouted. Ashe pulled up a sheet and said,

"Not all of it. For example it says here that Ffamran's- Balthier's- father wasn't born rich or noble. He married the lady Elanaya, who later died when the Purple Death swept through Archadia."

"That's the same plague that took my parents…" Penelo sighed. "Poor man. How old was he?"

Ashe investigated the report. It had Balthier's age on it. According to this, he had been forever saying he is two years younger than his actual age. The liar.

"Err…" She found the date of his mother's death and calculated his age, "I think he was ten."

Penelo stayed quiet.

"I… I have to confess something…" Said the young woman, looking suddenly distressed, "I… I don't know anything about Balthier!"

Ashe was more taken aback at how upset the admission made her friend.

"I didn't know he was a judge and I don't know anything about him! I'm a terrible friend."

Ashe tried to calm her, but she continued, "I never asked him why he was doing it- saving Dalmasca, I mean. I never even asked why he was willing to do it!"

"He always said it was for the money…" The queen mumbled, feeling her underlying unease return. She had never asked him anything, either. What little she learned about him was when he had shared it with her. Why had he chosen her of all companions she didn't know. She knew Doctor Sid was his father before the rest of the party. Knew he had been a judge when no one else did. But then again, she also shared things with him she had never shared with anyone else, like her doubts and fears. Somehow sharing with him came… easier. Like it was the natural thing to do. She needed to find him, so that she might understand him a bit better. Even just a bit. Even just so that she could make amends for yelling at him. Then he could go wherever he wanted, and she'd at least feel like his attempt at reminder her who she had been fruitful. She had forgotten who she was, so overworked and overstressed as she was.

"Hey, speaking of his mother…" Penelo help up a piece of paper, read from it, "It says here that the mother's estate is in the Old Gridania forest of the Twelveswood. It says here it was a summer lodge renowned for excellent hunting grounds."

"Is it still there? Is there any family left?"

"All is says is that the family had an estate there." Penelo said, looking a little wary should the queen snapped at her. Aware of this, Ashe swallowed her frustration and smiled.

"Let us try it." She said.

* * *

><p>Thank you to OnlyLogic and Malakai-Macabre for reviewing. :D Reviews make my day!<p>

I liked Ashe and Balthier in the game, and I wish they had spent more time exploring characters than politics. Don't get me wrong, really the only thing I _didn't_ like about FFXII was the battle system, since the player was mostly unneeded. I loved the characters (except for Vaan, but I think a lot of that had to do with his lacklustre voice actor- the design and voice reminded me too much of Tidus), I loved the complex politics and I enjoyed the villains and support characters (Larsa is a cutie! 3 ). I've never touched Reverent Wings and I probably never will, for the record. Firstly I don't care for RTSs, and secondly Ashe and Balthier meet again and don't smooch, so no, not playing it.

OnlyLogic: The Phon Coast section of the game is one of my favourites; it's one of the few in which we see vulnerability from Balthier (there and after fighting Cidulphus). The animation in the game is good enough for it's time that you really see expression, and Balthier's voice actor... *purr*

Ever yours,

~LunarBlade


	3. Chapter 3

It took them a day of flying over the forest to locate the tiniest hint of terra-cotta roof tiles. The forest was not only tall and thickly populated, but also massive and generally uninhabited. By the time they found it was mid-afternoon, and they still had to find a spot to land and walk. Due to the thickness of the brush the nearest landing area was at least a half an hour walk away.

The house itself, when they arrived, was not in a habitable state. Thick vines covered entire walls and windows, the latter still boarded up for the family's extended absence. Drainpipes, unmaintained and battered by seasons were hanging off the eaves. The place had been much loved once, the fossils of vegetable gardens and flower pots as silent memories of better days.

"I don't think anyone's here…" Penelo whispered. The smell was predominantly of trees and dead undergrowth, the sounds of leaves rustling. The place felt like a crypt. Once beautiful, now a testament for a life snuffed out, a family long gone.

Despite their unease, the women took a turn outside, trying to find any clue or hint to further their search.

"Why are we looking for him, again…?" Penelo said softly. Ashe stopped in her tracks. She could explain that meeting to her, but she chose something more elegant that she hoped would allow her to keep her dignity.

"I worry for him."

Penelo's smile was not entirely innocent, and Ashe felt her face flush despite herself. Still, while Penelo was not very old or experienced in the world, she was wise enough to keep quiet and prance along. The queen followed, struggling to keep her temper under check.

"There!" Penelo said but a few minutes later, pointing towards a second floor balcony. At first Ashe wasn't certain what she was pointing at, but then she saw it. A flickering of light, like a small candle. It was getting dim enough to be seen. From their current angle they could not see who or what was there, so they made whispered conference to enter the house and investigate the balcony in question.

The house was a tomb of dust and memories. Pictures frames lay stacked on the floor, covered in an old sheet. Furniture that might have been grand once was covered and dormant. Floorboards creaked and dust shifted as they made their way through long lost moments of joy. A vase had tipped over and broke a long time ago, now even the pieces were covered in a layer of time. It took some long, silent moments, but the two of them, very much on edge, arrived at the door to the balcony. They shared a look, nodded, and opened it in one swift motion.

To be met with the muzzle of Balthier's gun. He was sitting not far from the door at a little summer table. His gaze was fixed on the candle before him, though his gun arm was fully extended towards the intruders. He had a glass of water on the table, a sealed letter, and a single candle.

"Eek!" Penelo chirped, and his head snapped in their direction. He dropped the gun quickly as his eyes went almost comically wide. He made to stand up, simply from shock, then changed his mind and remained seated.

"What in the blazes are you doing here?!" He barked, more startled than angry.

It took all three a moment to get their wits about them and then Ashe spoke,

"We've been looking for you, you fool! We're not some common bandits come to rob you!"

"I'm- How did you find me? _Why _did you find me? I thought you the last person I'd see now!" He covered his face with his palm, then ran his hand through his hair. He was clean shaved, but with dark smudges under his eyes as though he hadn't slept much. He was dressed in his old leather pants and vest, looking a bit worse for wear after their many adventures. Still, it made him look experienced and fit.

Penelo not very gently shoved Ashe towards him. The queen was half a mind to give Peleno a good lecture, but Balthier was still sitting there, looking at them as though he'd seen a ghost.

"We've come…" Now she wasn't sure what to say. What had possessed her to find him? How could she explain to him that she had basically dumped her royal duties, which she had been working on to the point of exhaustion for the past two years, to chase after him? Why had she chased after him? She was not, however, about to lose face in front of him, "I wanted to speak with you, and not under duress." The cup is broken. I will have it fixed.

His brows were about as high as they could go on his face, and his eyes looked her over as though trying to discover a hidden weapon. Her weapon was hidden in her boot, but she had no intentions of reaching for it. He frowned, suspicious.

"What a surprise." He intoned slowly. She hated how his voice could run shivers down her spine.

"Why are you here of all places?" Penelo spoke up, seeing as Ashe would not do anything dramatic, much to her disappointment. Ashe made a mental note to have a stern talk with the girl in regards to her imagined level of familiarity between them.

Balthier glanced at her, face settling back into his usual sneer, "Spending some time in peace." He replied. There was a moment of silence. Ashe knew not how to counter this near dismissal. He averted his gaze from them to look out into the forest encroaching on the lands of his mother. Then he spoke again,

"Penelo, would you be a dear and fetch us a bottle of wine from the cellar? It's down the stairs and then to your left."

Penelo looked between the two and saw the words awaiting her departure. She scuttled away. Ashe marvelled that even a knighted dame of her lands would submit so easily when Balthier requested aught, but attributed it to Penelo herself. She had yet to learn what it means to be knighted.

"Well? What is this really about?" Balthier asked her, resigned and still looking at the darkening woods. The queen was standing where they had entered, halfway between the door and the table. She felt that she wanted to yell at him to look at her, to explain his strange behavior. But he seemed inclined to sit in silence, if she would let him. She wondered what he had been eating out here, or even how he had arrived. They saw no ship anywhere nearby. Walking would have taken a few days, at least.

"I…" She chose her words, "I didn't want us to part as we did." The cup is broken. He glanced at her.

"And why is that?" He asked, humor in his eyes.

"Because… we were once friends, were we not?"

He looked away again, chuckled to himself. He looked old that day. Tired. He looked like a man lost. But then the chuckle was gone and the mask of calm and wit returned.

"Yes, we were." He looked her straight in the eye then as he said, "Except now you hate me."

She drew back almost physically. He hadn't said it with anger, but with conviction.

"What nonsense is this?" She blurted out, ready to shout at him if needed, but he lifted a hand and she stopped, and she was amazed at herself for stopping when a man with no authority could silence her, the most respected queen of the last century.

"I spent a while certain you had been doing it on purpose, but now I wonder if you're even aware of it yourself."

She thought about it. Thought about him, looked him in the eye and was all but ready to tell him how outrageously stupid he was being, when the words wouldn't come out.

And then she realized he was right.

It was like a physical blow to her chest. There was a tight ball of anger inside her for him. A ball so filled to the brim with mixed, awful emotions she could not even give words to them. It was very much like hate, but not like what she bore for the Empire back then. This was raw and bleeding and churning inside her. For two years she carried it, pressed down on it because he was thought dead or because she hadn't the time or the courage to face it. Now, as if sensing it was spoken about, it reared its head and showed her her own nasty nature. It was the core of her foul attitude and the tainted fuel on which she had spent the last two years. He could see the realization on her face, and looked away.

At that moment Penelo returned carrying a bottle. At the tense silence she said nothing, but stepped past the transfixed Ashe to present the bottle to Balthier. He inspected it, then looked at Penelo appreciatively,

"Well chosen, Penelo." He smirked at her, though Ashe could see the pain in his eyes, "You've chosen the very best vinegar the wine cellar had to offer."

The young woman blushed, apologizing hastily, but he dismissed her fretting. "Pah, there probably isn't a drinkable bottle left there. No matter."

He placed the bottle on the table and said.

"Thank you for your visit, ladies." With the utmost sincerity.

With the tension still hanging in the air, and both parties stiff as statues, Penelo said, "Balthier, this is no place to catch up on your quiet time! You must come with us."

Both of them stared at her. She continued cheerfully,

"Why, I understand I now have an estate and that it is but a couple hours flight from here. You will both come and be my guests! I had never visited the place, myself." She looked to the queen, ignored her stunned expression, "Ashe, you know I've no experience managing estates! Will you not spend a few days teaching me?"

"Err… Of course, but-"

Penelo turned to Balthier, "And I understand I have chocobo stables and hunting dogs, but I don't know how to hunt on birdback. Would you do me the honor of teaching me?"

"It would be my honor, but-"

Penelo clapped her hands with delight. "Wonderful!" She exclaimed without a care in the world, "Let's go, then! This is no place for a reunion party!" She practically danced away, and the queen exchanged a look with the sky pirate, both realizing Penelo's simple brilliance at manipulation. After a moment Balthier made a 'I didn't expect that' face and burst out laughing.

"I could make an excuse, you want, and not come." He said.

Ashe shook her head. Today was just one surprise after another.

"No. Come." She ordered in what she hoped was a kind tone. "We've much talking ahead of us."

"Talking, princess?"

She didn't comment on the old nickname, but instead answered, "If we're to resolve…" She made a motion in between them, "This." She said.

He sighed and nodded. Said,

"Go ahead, then. I have a few unfinished tasks."

It was her turn to nod, "Very well, though I'd rather not tarry long. This place has all the cheerfulness of a tomb."

He smiled at that, and she headed out after giving him directions to their parking spot.

.

He spent the trip napping in the back seat of the Faris Rose, leaning on his small duffle as a pillow. The two women spoke softly amongst themselves, wondering why he was so tired.

"Tired or not," Penelo whispered conspiratorially, leaning over and letting her eyes leave the horizon for a moment, "I think he's as handsome as ever, don't you?"

Ashe regarded her cooly, knowing for a long time now that Penelo thought the two of them should have gotten together.

"I suppose. I haven't really paid it any mind."

Penelo straightened in her seat, her scheming deflected for now. If only she knew of the current situation… But Ashe had not the heart to tell her. She would think Ashe horrible for hating the man who had done so much for her. She wasn't even sure that 'hate' was the right word. It was like a burning in her blood, and it somehow originated from him to run through her entire body.

"I'm so excited to be going to my very own estate!" Penelo squeaked in delight. "I've never had an estate before. Even when my parents were alive we were very poor…"

"You needn't ever worry about that anymore." Ashe said, "You're taken care of now."

"Yes, Penelo," Balthier purred in the back seat, not even opening his eyes, "Just ignore all those hungering masses in the capitol and enjoy that you have wealth. That's how you become aristocracy." Ashe turned to glare at him, but he was just smiling to himself.

"Oh, swell," The queen said, "A pirate with a political view."

"Are you saying that one must be of a certain profession to be allowed to hold opinions?"

"I think one must at least know what they're talking about to voice it."

"You're right, princess." He drawled sarcastically, opening his eyes to meet her own, "Out of the two of us, only one of us had actually spend time in Rabanastre's underbelly, and I don't mean the sewers. Even in the rebellion you had not suffered hunger, _majesty_."

She curled her lip at him,

"I am a queen. You are a grounded pirate. What do you know?" She hated how shrill her voice sounded. Penelo cringed in her seat.

"Yes," He settled in his seat, trying to find a comfortable spot, looking none the chastised, "Don't use facts or logic for the argument, just yell and pull rank. Fantastic."

She was about to yell and pull rank again, but caught her tongue, fuming.

"I fought for the very people you claim I don't understand! I'm making the country a Republic for those people!" She seethed.

"A republic run by those with money." He countered.

"Who better to assure Dalmasca's prosperity than those who are prosperous? You'd have ignorant farmers trying determine the fate of a nation?"

"Considering those ignorant farmers are the bulk of your nation, I would say they, of all people, should have a say in this so called republic."

"So called?! Why you-"

"Of course, with a medicum of effort they could probably be less ignorant, but then they'd want things like rights and fair wages, and your precious guilds would have slightly less money. They won't have that."

"So you'd have men the like of Vaan on the senate?" She turned to murmur a quick 'no offence' to Penelo, but the latter understood and even agreed with a chuckle.

Here Balthier had no reply, though he was sorely looking for one.

"You've never ruled over your own impulses, let alone an entire nation. You have no idea of the difficulties that lie therein!" She snapped at him, "A queen needs support. If I were to enter into the office and immediately remove all those influential men, my kingdom would crumble."

"Oh, for a moment I worried that you might have a backbone." He yawned while she flung obscenities at him and he rolled over, trying to get some rest.

She stared out the window for the rest of the trip, answering token replies to Penelo's occasional chatter. The latter seemed unaffected by her companion's silence and burning rage.

.

"I've never actually been to my estate." Penelo said again as they started to descend. Balthier had stirred and was blinking blearily out the viewport. "Oh," Penelo giggled like a little girl, "I have an estate. The Penelo estate!" She could not get over the novelty, and Ashe found her thoughts momentarily distracted from her gloom to smile at Penelo's enthusiasm.

"Knighthood befits you, m'lady." Balthier yawned. He looked refreshed, if still a little sleepy. She giggled again, landing the ship with dragonfly grace. The two girls dismounted, Balthier stretched and curled back into the seat, saying he wanted a few more hours rest and he promised to attend dinner, if a servant could be dispatched to awaken him.

"A room would prove more comfortable." Ashe said as she was about to close the cockpit door.

"I haven't been in a ship in a while, least of all slept in one. It's delightfully soothing. Allow me this indulgence?"

She rolled her eyes and shut the door.

* * *

><p>I decided to update early. I was thinking of updating on Thursday, but with Christmas everywhere I thought I'd update when the chapter was good and ready. Maybe I'll still update on Thursday? Let's see how well I do.<p>

I forgot to add author's notes to the last chapter! I hope you guys are enjoying the story thus far. I can imagine that any relationship between these two will be filled with arguments. He is very self-assured, and she is stubborn. That can't be easy. They're both educated people, and Balthier's wit, I'm sure, can get trying at times. Ashe is very well read, I imagine, but not especially witty and with a ton she feels she needs to prove. Complicated.

Let me know what you think!

Ever yours,

~LunarBlade


	4. Chapter 4

Penelo's estate was a beautifully quaint mansion on the quiet side of the Dalmasca/Rosarian border. It had once belonged to a lesser noble who ran to Rosaria at the beginning of the war. The old king had decreed that those who abandoned Dalmasca in her hour of need forfeit their Dalmascan titles and lands. So when it came to awarding those who stood before the queen at her coronation, she had ample rewards to distribute.

.

Balthier did indeed join them at dinner, and while the girls spent some time being acquainted with the area and washing, Balthier was waiting for them when they arrived at the windowed dinner nook. He was seated at the table, regaling the head chef with some anecdote or other. The large woman burst out laughing, patting him amicably on the shoulder and returning to her duties when the two women entered.

How did he learn to command such ease? Did it come naturally to him that he would be a lord and a friend to his staff? It might be easy for him, as he had no estate, no country to run. People didn't turn to him to be a guiding beacon for an entire nation. She supposed that were she free again, she might be at leisure to befriend the staff and to have an easy discourse.

Dinner that first night was tense. Penelo did most of the talking, insisting on complimenting the head chef in person. The chef, whose name was also Penelo (much to both of their amusement), was a kindly, tanned older woman with a large heart and larger laugh. She admitted at the end of dinner that she had assumed Ashe to be the new landlady due to her disapproving demeanor. They hadn't told her this woman was the queen, so she felt at ease saying things like that.

"What do you mean, disapproving?" Penelo hardly could stop herself from laughing.

"Lukit 'er." Said the other Penelo, "Ate me very best and still no'a smile on'er."

"Oh, please don't take offence," Penelo giggled, wiping her mouth daintily, "She's always like that."

"Ooh, but ah could 'ave sworn ah'v seen her lovely face before…" She squinted at Ashe, whom she knew only as Amalia, the guest of her landlady Dame Penelo. Ashe tried to hide her face as discreetly as possible.

"My good chef, do you know I've not had shallots so exquisitely made since I was a boy?" Said Balthier with his most charming smile. The chef immediately dropped her scrutiny of Ashe to gush over the handsome guest. Dinner passed and Balthier again sacrificed life and limb, or in this case, ear and time, to allow the girls to escape while Chef Penelo tattled on.

.

"So… How do you like the place?" Penelo asked with a touch of nerves.

"I think it's perfect." Ashe said distantly, looking at the painting on the walls and the sunset view out the windows. It was perfect. It was small enough to be a community of loving people while large enough to be considered a mansion. Ashe asked, "How do _you _like it? I chose this for you since the previous owner's wife always got compliments for the beauty of the place."

Penelo's eyes grew big, "You mean, you personally researched a good place for me?"

"Of course!" Ashe exclaimed, "It was a pleasure to do."

"Oh…" Penelo looked guilty. "I never thought…" She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "You were so distant before the coronation… Vaan and I- I mean… We didn't think…"

"That I thought about you both?"

Penelo nodded,

"Even during our knighting ceremony's after party you hardly said two words to us."

Ashe remembered the day in the blur of days that immediately followed her coronation.

"I didn't want to intimidate you both, nor prevent you from networking."

"I was supposed to be networking?" Penelo blushed, looking distressed again. Ashe calmed her down as they reached their quarters.

"Get some rest, and let's do something fun tomorrow!" Penelo chirped as they parted to their rooms.

.

Ashe laid in the lovely bed. Nothing compared to her grand chambers in her own castle, but certainly caringly prepared for her. When she had first moved back into the castle she had refused to stay where her parents stayed. What would they think of her? She had failed to save her father, her husband… She had nearly doomed her kingdom to ruin with her lust for the power to restore it. And she would have, had not a pair of calm green eyes watched her, and if not a calm deep voice offered its honest opinions. Then why? Why could she not feel at ease in his presence? Why did the thought of him churn so many emotions when she should simply view him as a friend? Penelo didn't cause such reactions in her, nor Fran, nor even Basch, whom she started off hating so. Vaan's gung-ho, acting-before-thinking approach sometimes grated on her nerves, but even he did not evoke such feelings in her.

Did she hate Balthier? Her emotions were so jumbled that it was possible hate was in there. She knew the bulk of the emotions were negative. That much she knew. She knew anger was the predominant feeling.

The ceiling offered no answer.

The next day, after breakfast (Balthier had apparently woken up extra early and had waited for them to eat), Penelo insisted that they go hunting. Balthier put up a good resistance, saying that Penelo had hardly time to acquaint herself with her estate and its staff.

"That's a truth," Penelo said, all cheerfulness, "But you promised and who knows how long you'll stay?" She then pouted, and Balthier was at a loss. Ashe found herself almost chuckling that such a master of seduction and manipulation such as Balthier would be outdone by a girl almost ten years his junior.

"Let's all get changed and set out." The queen decreed.

"Let me just finish my tea and I'll be ready ere long."

But Penelo grabbed his arm and forced him up. Once they were in the corridor, she could not contain her excitement and ran ahead. Balthier tarried, walking slowly and stopping often to examine the paintings.

"My father had one by this artist," He indicated a beautifully painted wheat field, "Not that he ever paid it much mind. But I used to watch it. I named the characters in it." He chuckled to himself, sauntered off to the next frame.

"Are you planning on taking until lunch to get to your room?" Ashe chided. He looked almost apologetic, and standing in the corridor beside him was reminding her of his smell. That smell reminded her of intense battles, the whiff of gunpowder and the unerring confidence that wherever she did turn, her back was guarded. It reminded her of its absence. Of a year she didn't allow herself to mourn for him, and another year she didn't allow herself to wait for him. It was a familiar smell, and one she hadn't consciously realized she missed. It made her angry.

"Will you stop dilly dallying and get changed! You promised her!" She snapped, perhaps louder than she intended. He regarded her coolly from his vantage point of yet another picture and accepted her rebuke, slowly, ever so slowly making his way to his room. He did it to spite her, and she hated him a little.

.

The chocobos were prepped, the dogs barking with excitement, and the three hunters (plus two servants) set out on a breezy day, overcast day to perfect their mounted hunting skills. Penelo's chocobo was so eager to run loose after so many months being masterless, that she kept losing control over it. The first three times Ashe galloped ahead to seize Penelo's reins, and after that Balthier rode close to the over-eager chocobo and put his hand under its beak, forcing it to look at him. He spoke some very stern words to the bird, and it seemed to calm it down.

"Penelo, you need be more forceful with the creature."

"I don't want to hurt it." She said as the three of them strode slowly side by side.

"You won't hurt it." He assured, "Chocobos can be a bit over dramatic, but they're tougher than you give them credit for." He was a bit flushed, breathing heavier than the girls. Ashe never thought she'd have more stamina than him, but who knows how he had spent the last year? Idling away and drinking, most likely. Although she expected someone who had been drinking to have a less perfectly tapered waist.

"Are we speaking of the birds still? No wonder you communicate with it so well." Ashe smirked. He mock-bowed in his saddle.

"Me? Over dramatic? M'lady wounds me." Both girls rolled their eyes, and the dogs caught a scent and off they galloped.

"How did you do that to Benny?" Penelo asked after another fruitless chase. The hare escaped, but they were having fun. At least Penelo was. Balthier looked exhausted and Ashe kept her fun on the inside.

"The underside of a Chocobo's beak is one of the few places a chocobo cannot reach on his own. It's a place they attack when they fight." He instructed. "The trick is to remember to hold the bird's gaze when you reach there and assert dominance, otherwise they see it as an attack."

It started raining on their way back, and despite Balthier's less than proper hints they they should go and a leisurely pace and get drenched, they raced back with their meager catchings for the day. They got enough for dinner and the lunch the next day. A deer and a duck. It wasn't much but Penelo was squealing with joy as she dismounted, sopping wet.

"We caught things! Did you see how I shot that deer! Pow!" She danced around a little, then excused herself to get changed and help cook.

"That girl certainly enjoys killing things." Balthier commented from his perch atop his bird, perhaps a bit confused. Ashe was dismounting, shaking water out of her hair. He was watching her, but when she met his eye he looked away. He was still breathing hard, and she was amused at his not keeping in shape.

"If you've something to say, say it." She snapped. He patted the creature's neck.

"I did not mean for this." He said quietly, "I did not mean to stay in your life. Penelo's very persuasive."

He seemed quite genuine, and she wondered if she indeed hated him. She wondered how he felt for her. She never asked. Never did learn those reasons behind him sticking to her crazy mission. Had yet to ask all those questions buzzing inside her. Why had he gone to his mother's estate? Why had he 'settled his affairs'?

He was also dripping wet, face showing signs of his fatigue. If he was this tired he did well on the hunting trip.

"You needn't worry about it. Come, let us get changed."

He carefully dismounted, taking his time. The hunting trip must have cramped his muscles and he walked stiffly towards her. She was certain he was doing this to spite her. Every time she ordered him… _asked _him to do something he took the most amount of time to perform the task. It was infuriating. She drew her breath to tell him so.

And then the stable hand reached to remove the chocobo's barding, and being a young male had been eying the figure of Ashelia Benagen Dalmasca sopping wet. Which meant his eyes were not on the chocobo when he reached under its neck to unclasp the leather.

The bird warked angrily, rearing up to strike. The stable hand was off balance from this, so the only target clearly ahead was Ashe herself. She turned, but the bird's beak was already inches from her face.

In that split second she had time to consider what nuisance it would be to come back to the capitol permanently scarred by a chocobo mauling. The incidents were common enough that she had seen the results. Chocobo beaks were very, very sharp. They were the creature's only defense, really. It's amazing how quickly and calmly the mind can think in a split second.

And then, of course, there was Balthier, knocking her out of the way with the full weight of his body and the speed of his dash.

Instead of her face, the beak nicked his shoulder.

The farm hand recovered and fought to calm the now distraught creature, as Ashe and Balthier tumbled ungracefully across the wooden floor of the stable. The dogs were barking loudly and the other servant who had joined them was shouting at his companion.

Ashe, mostly unscathed, sat up, frustrated. Balthier's shoulder injury was pretty trifling, it was about the length of her longest finger.

"Oh, get up, you over-dramatic oaf." She shoved him, and he rolled over to his back, breathing hard and clutching, of all things, at his right leg.

"What are you moaning about now?"

He wasn't really. He was breathing through clenched teeth.

She was about to scold him again when she saw some blood on his hand. Was it from the injury on his shoulder? He rolled over, away from her.

"Just give me a moment. I'm fine." He hissed out. His face was drawn in intense pain. The sight of it froze her heart in its beating. A small voice told her he was being melodramatic, as was his want, and that he had probably just sprained his ankle, but why then was he clutching at his knee? He probably had just hit it wrong on the wood. Knee injuries were very painful. Then why the blood?

It was amazing how quickly the mind rationalizes in a split second.

Her hand was going to his pant leg to lift it up and inspect the damage, but his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist almost painfully strong.

"I'm fine." He panted, forcing himself to sit up. "Don't."

The hand grabbing her wrist was slightly bloodied. The side of his pants on his right knee was stained with a few drops of blood. The cloth was not torn so it couldn't have been from his throwing himself at her.

"Let me inspect the injury." She said, pulling her hand from his grip and reaching again. There was the slightest bit of blood smeared on her wrist. It was not making her upset, but his behavior was. He slapped her hands away. He was still wet, but she was certain that the droplets on his face were sweat now, and she could see how pale he was even under his light tan. A tightness under his eyes, his pupils tiny in his dark eyes. She reached again and he grasped her wrist again. So, when she slapped his soundly across the face with her free hand, she had ample time to remove his hand from her wrist, and roll up some of his pant leg. He had worn loose pants today to ease his riding.

Was he wearing an anklet? There was a leather band strapped tightly around the narrow of his ankle, with two spokes of leather-wrapped metal running upwards towards his knee. It was akin to an elaborate brace, with leather straps forming the shape of muscles pinched and wrecked by scars. But it had been worn for too long, and too tightly- the leather straps were digging into his flesh, leaving knife-like lacerations on his already badly damaged muscles. At the long-ruined knee there was an elaborate, thin mechanism of gears and leathers, with a kerchief stuck in between it and his skin. The kerchief was soaked in blood. The brace had a home-spun feel to it, and the design far from perfect. It had dug deeply into his flesh.

That's when she really noticed the scars. His calf and knee looked effectively ruined. and that's when he grabbed her wrist again, scowling viciously at her, inches away.

And that's when the servants burst in, having been called by the stable hands. They quickly swept in and help the two to their feet. Balthier could not stand unaided, and two servants escorted him to his quarters, supporting him under his arms.

"Forget this little incident." Balthier muttered as they left.

And then she remembered she had forgotten to thank him for saving her from a terribly deformed face.

* * *

><p>Merry Christmas! As a person without a family this time of year, I get to post fanfiction online instead. ^_^;; Don't take family for granted!<p>

I hope you're enjoying the holiday season and I hope the gifts of the new year are just beginning.

The next chapter should be up, life permitting, on Sunday.

Ever yours,

~LunarBlade


	5. Chapter 5

She got to his room moments later. There was a bit of a hubbub of servants at the door, and the head chef, of all people, burst out of his room, shouldering her way through the rest of the servants and with quick, angry words dispersing them back to their jobs.

"That fool!" She scowled, seeing Ashe approach. "Ooh, dear Amalia, your friends a right sight e'is!"

"Is he alright?" Ashe asked, hoping to sneak past her and into Balthier's room.

"We doon't have a doctor on staff, so they just turn to old me when a somethin' needs a stitch or a wrap. If I'd known how bad 'es leg was, I'd never 'ave alloowd him to go a huntin'! Even an old injury needs a tendin' to!"

"Old injury? What are you talking about?"

"Are you 'is friend?" She asked, looking critical.

"Yes!" She answered before she thought it through.

"And ye don't know?" She shook her head in dismay and cleared the doorway. Ashe entered. Penelo had taken the Faris Rose to the nearest town to see if she could fetch a doctor, despite Balthier's protests.

He was lying in his bed, on top of the sheets. His room was smaller than the one Penelo had given Ashe, and his bed was not the four-posted glory that was Ashe's. For a moment the queen wondered if Penelo had given her the master bedroom. He was leaning on the headboard, sitting up, looking less pained and a lot frustrated. He scowled at her when she entered, looking away quickly.

His right pant leg was folded all the way past his knee, and was bent casually after the chef's ministrations. The leg was bandaged, and his shoulder stitched. He was shirtless. She noticed this with her eyes well before her mind acknowledged it and she wondered how long she had been staring at him.

There were old and newer scars on his torso as a man who took on an empire was expected to be, but the skin that was exposed on his leg was so badly scarred it made the rest of his scars look like he casually tumbled down a bramble patch. It was so bad, and the obvious damage to the muscle beneath so obvious, she wondered he could walk at all. The scars didn't deform the leg, but showed the extent of damage that had happened. The man even managed to get horribly injured in attractive ways.

The offending brace was propped against the bedside table, along with a cane. Ashe didn't find the scars off putting, but she was amazed he managed to hide all this for as long as he had.

"What were you thinking?" She barked at him, internally kicking herself. He refused to meet her eyes, instead staring out the window. She approached and sat at the chair near his bed where the other Penelo had presumably sat to mend him.

"Are you alright?" She asked instead. He glanced at her. There was pain on his face, concentrated at the tightness between his brows. His eyes were so very green. He looked… embarrassed ? Frustrated?

"I'm well, princess." He sighed, "This is naught but a trifling inconvenience. I remain ever at your serv-"

"Will you stop that?!" Ashe snapped. He looked away again. "This injury is very grave. How did it happen?"

"It doesn't matter, princess."

"Do you truly wish for me to slap you again? You need but continue to evade my questions and the wish will be granted." She growled. He quirked an eyebrow at her,

"If that is m'lady's desire, who am I to stop her?"

"Balthier. I swear-" She took in a deep breath, calmed herself enough to ask, "Why won't you tell me anything? Your answers have been cryptic since that day you returned my blade."

"You tolerate my presence here by Penelo's request-"

"Why don't you leave my feelings to me, pirate?!" She snarled. "I know my feelings, and if I ask you a question I want a response. I am not here because of Penelo."

He looked her in the eye and said, "Bahamut."

Ashe leaned back in the chair. Not words she expected to hear, but his expression was one of 'you want it? You got it'.

"What…" She had to swallow hard, that day rising in her memories beside the swelling of her anger.

"It is the reason for all this." He stayed very still. "It is the reason you hate me and the reason I am…" He didn't finish. How did the awful day keep haunting her?! At her castle it's all anyone spoke about, and here… it chased her all the way here. Just because she wasn't strong enough-

"I could not hate you for what you did on board the Bahamut." She forced out the name of the ship like it was poison she was trying to draw from a wound. The Sky Fortress _was _poison. It poisoned her thoughts and her people and it drew those who sought it to darkness.

"But you do." Balthier said. When she was about to snap at him that he knows not her thoughts, he raised his hand, again effectively silencing her. How did he _do _that?

"You hate that it was me who did it." He said softly, looking into her face with such compassion, "You hate that I saved your city."

"Why would I-?"

He leaned forward, placed his larger , warm hand on hers. She hadn't noticed she had her fist balled up in her skirts. "If there was anything that you could have sacrificed to save Dalmasca, would you not give it?"

"Anything." She breathed out automatically.

"But I did, instead. For all you knew I…." He didn't want to talk about this, but he felt he had no choice, "For all you knew I had given Dalmasca my very life. I knew you saw me as a friend back then, myself and Fran both. But we had taken away the one thing you felt you could yet give Dalmasca to lead it to salvation. We made the sacrifice you could not, and you hated…" He took a deep breath, rephrased, "I can only assume you hated yourself for the guilt of it."

He was right. So painfully right. How could he have seen into her so easily, when she herself could not understand it?

The tangle of emotions lay before her, and that tug from his honest words unravelled it, laying the pieces so neatly before her. Self loathing wrapped itself around the guilt of his presumed death. She would have gladly gone into the Bahamut in his stead. She would have gone in and died in earnest, if it meant the salvation of her people and her country. But not only was she the sole heir for the kingdom, she hadn't the foggiest what he had actually done to allow the massive thing to keep floating for just long enough to miss her city.

Anger. Anger that he had kept away. Shame that he kept on being right about her. Anger that she hadn't sought him out earlier.

And something… the grain of sand that started this black pearl of emotion was a feeling unlike the rest. A tender one she dared not yet give name to. A feeling that had been sitting there since they had travelled together. A feeling all the other feelings did their best to distract her from.

His eyes were boring into hers, the sun emerging after the storm in the last few hours of the day to paint his hair with highlights of bronze and strike the richness of his eyes into her heart.

Then she realized she was crying.

She realized his other hand was cupping her cheek. She drew back from surprise and regretted the coldness that replaced it. He put his hand back in his lap as if her moment of dawning truths took him by surprised, too. As if his hand moved to her on its own accord.

Ashe got up regally. Her insides so alive with emotions that she felt numb all over. She made sure he had water within reach, then left the room. If he spoke to her, she could not hear him.

She lay in her bed and cried for hours. She cried over the anger pouring away from her like a waterfall and leaving shame and emptiness in its wake. She cried for the shame of not realizing her own feelings. She cried that she had allowed so much emptiness to nest in her. She cried that it took this to shake her out of it. She cried, finally, of the thought of his death. Even though she knew he was only a few rooms down, she cried for him. Then she cried at the joy of his being alive, and only a few rooms down from her. She cried that it wasn't her who had sacrificed for Dalmasca, and she cried that she had someone in her life who had. She cried at his injuries and cried that he felt he had to hide them. Why? Should not she have been the first person he faced with his grievances? How did he manage to get so badly injured? Why- that perpetual question- why did he do it? He had nothing to gain. He hadn't been responsible for any of the destruction but somehow thought the cure must be of his own doing? Why?

Why had he come to bring her that dagger? Was it really only to remind her of herself? Why had he settled his affairs? Why had he gone to his mother's estate, there to wait with a letter and gun?

Ashe cried until she cried herself dry and she fell asleep in her riding clothes, on top of the sheets.

.

When Ashe awoke the next day it was to Penelo's tender urgings. The young woman had a plate of food, and considering they had a hasty lunch while hunting and she had skipped dinner, she thanked Penelo and started devouring her meal in the most unqueenly fashion right there on top of her bed in her crumpled clothes.

Penelo looked worried.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

Ashe felt… liberated. She felt like Dalmasca embodied. Battered, but strong. She felt, for the first time since that fateful day, like the woman who had fought three coeurls. She gave Penelo the short version;

"I'm feeling better than I had in a while."

"I'm sorry the chocobo attacked you." Penelo mumbled. Ashe had almost forgot about it, and realized she once again forgot to thank Balthier for it. Come to think of it, she had never actually thanked him for saving her city, either.

She then realized she had been very selfish lately. She hadn't even asked Penelo, in all their days travels, how she fared or what she was doing these days. So selfish.

She thanked Penelo and promised her, unsolicited, that they absolutely must spend more time together soon. The girl, bewildered at the cheerful changed in her queen, agreed.

"But Penelo," Ashe said, looking around, "Did you really give the master bedroom?"

Penelo blushed, looking down,

"You're a queen. I couldn't let you sleep in one of the guest rooms!"

Said queen scolded her friend for her over generosity, then said that she should be checking on Balthier.

"Good idea," Penelo agree, "He said he's leaving today." The young woman was clearly disappointed, and missed the look of mortification on Ashe's face. Penelo continued,

"He said you two had a row yesterday and that he upset you? So he said he 'overstayed his welcome' and should go'." And just like that the man was planning on running away again. Was that all he knew how to do?!

"Is he still here?"

Penelo nodded.

"What did the doctor have to say about Balthier?"

Penelo looked confused.

"I didn't ask. It's between him and Balthier, is it not?"

But Ashe was already out the door and heading to the man's room, Penelo in tow.

.

"Balthier!" She called out his name with authority as she stormed into his room. The man was donning a new pair of pants and nearly keeled over in surprise and haste. He managed to get them all the way up before the girls caught any sight of skin.

"What are you doing, bursting into people's rooms?!" He demanded, incredulously. Ashe refused to be deterred or embarrassed. His white cotton shirt was untucked still, his hair dishevelled. He hadn't shaved yet this morning, and stood there, off kilter as he was keeping all the weight off his injured leg. His expression bellied his surprise at seeing her. He had thought he had chased her away the night before, and that her hatred of him was limitless, but he had underestimated her.

"Penelo," Ashe regarded her friend, who again got the look that she knew she was the third wheel, "I would ask you kindly to let Balthier and I talk. I could make up an excuse, but I think too highly of you to do that right now."

Penelo's grin could have light up a room.

"Of course," She said respectfully, bowing slightly and removing herself from the room. Ashe took a moment to internally acknowledge that Balthier's approach of simply asking for something in a friendly tone was highly effective. It seemed to take sometimes just as much effort as yelling, when yelling was what you really wanted to do, but the results seems consistently superior.

He eyed her suspiciously, clearly trying to deduce her motives. Was she going to yell at him? Hit him?

Before he could act, she swooped in and took the cane he had prepared before he could reach for it. It was mostly so that he would not, and could not, leave while she said what she had to say.

"Sit down." She instructed. He remained standing, though he turned fully away from the bed to face her, defiant.

She inspected the cane. It was a beautifully carved masterpiece in mint condition. It was made of, if she would wager a guess, Behemoth tooth. Strong and durable material worth a lot of money. They had obtained some on their travels. Her share of it was still lying in the Royal treasury. The knob of the cane was carved after the head of a coeurl, with it's long whiskers exaggerated to the length of the entire cane. It also, as she found out quickly, detached to form the hilt of a Behemoth tooth sword hidden inside.

"Clever." She commented, then brandished the sword and put it to his neck. His eyes grew very big. Ashe smiled. He had had all the power in their recent conversations, telling her who she was and how she felt. Now, as her emotions sorted themselves out, it was her turn. She moved the sword slowly towards him, and he leaned back until he overbalanced and fell unto the width of the bed, back leaning against the wall.

"There." Ashe withdrew the sword, although she did not sheath it again. Balthier was good with a sword, but no where as good as her. Just as she had obtained the license to use a gun, but was far less accurate than him.

He scowled at her, still wary and still defiant.

"What happened on board the Sky Fortress?" She asked, watching the light play on the polished blade. Whether he was intimidated by the expose weapon or just being polite he asked,

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"Why would I not?"

"Because it's not a story that reflects well on you, whether intentional or not."

She looked at him. He still looked tired, but the pain had ebbed. Forcing him to walk on it had been an unknowing punishment. Forcing him to ride a chocobo must have been torture. All those times she had seen him and not seen him stand, or when he walked especially slow… How foolish had she been to not see the signs! Selfish to think he was doing it only to spite her.

"Whatever it is that needs to be said, let us say it."

He sighed heavily.

"I miscalculated," He said, dark eyes never leaving her face, "I thought I had more time. I thought Bahamut would stay in the sky just a couple of moments longer. I hadn't counted on it crashing quite so quickly, or Fran succumbing to its released mist so soon."

"How is she?" Ashe interrupted. He grinned briefly.

"She's well. That ear will never grow back, but she doesn't resent me. Not for that, at any rate. Her and Basche are happy together."

"Basche?" Ashe had not seen aware of that. Balthier laughed at her expression. He continued, "The place crashed and we were trapped under debris."

He paused. Took a deep breath. There was no trace of the smile now.

"For three days."

* * *

><p>The next chapter continues this conversation, don't worry! I just thought it would be a very dun-dun-DUN kind of place to end the chapter. :)<p>

Hope you had a wonderful Christmas and hope you have a wonderful new year! Next chapter should be up on Thursday. It should be the last of this story, but I might write a sequel.

Ever yours,

~LunarBlade


	6. Chapter 6

She stopped breathing. He was still staring at her, waiting to see how she'd react. She was also still brandishing a weapon. She put it back in it's sheath to buy herself time to think while he spoke. "I was pinned down, my leg, as you see, took the brunt of it. I assured Fran that you would come back for us."

She felt a little sick, imagining them trapped thus, waiting for a rescue that would never come.

"We did not know that Bahamut continued to burn for a week thereafter. We did not know that we were presumed dead. After three days we managed to escape, but the damage had been done and too late for cure spells then!" He paused, cleared his throat. "I am not blaming anyone." He added uncomfortably.

Ashe said nothing. Examined the cane and it's beautiful details.

"I spent some time resenting you…" He admitted after a long pause, looking away with what she imagined was a memory of shame. "Spent about a year in a small town in Rosaria, healing. Learning to walk again."

She had a lump in his throat for his courage.

"Why Rosaria?" She asked, her voice breaking a little and she coughed to clear it.

He met her eye again, his own expression thoughtful. After another moment of consideration he spoke,

"I'm a wanted man, princess." She blinked and he sighed again and said, "I'm wanted in Bujerba for kidnapping royalty under protection of the marquis, also for trespassing on state property, they mean the mines, I imagine, as well as instigating unrest, the whole I'm Captain Basche with Vaan." He listed.

"But the Marquis knows why you did all these things!" She exclaimed, incredulous, "Why would he not pardon you?"

Balthier's face was truly pained here, but a smile broke through nonetheless.

"So you really didn't think about it…?" He shook his head and she drew the sword again and playfully pointed it at him,

"You better explain." She ordered.

"Because I'm also wanted for some of those crimes in Dalmasca." He said. She swallowed with difficulty. "As well as breaking into the royal palace. Bujerba, being in treatise with Dalamasca, cannot pardon a criminal for crimes they had not been pardoned for in the other state."

She hadn't thought of it. She had pardoned many would-be criminals who had been arrested under Imperial law, but that was just after the restoration. She still thought him dead then. And after his return… she had been so busy that the thought hadn't occurred to her. Mentioned it when they had met, but hadn't thought of the ramifications.

"I had been convinced," he said in a drawl, "That it was m'lady's idea of punishment. But now I see I was merely not in m'lady's thoughts." The pain returned to his face, though the smile remained.

"Oh, gods…" She breathed, "I'm-" She almost apologized, instead said, "I'll rectify this at once. I'll send out the letters today and clear this all up."

He nodded his thanks. She asked,

"Why not go to Archadia, though? Your home country?"

"I really had not been in m'lady's thoughts," He chuckled, "That she had forgotten I am charged there with regicide." He made a face of displeasure, "Larsa cleared all of that out since, but at the time I did not know that." Here his face darkened, "He also cleared me of the charges of _patricide_."

There was a tense moment of silence. The level of self-loathing that came though in that sentence alarmed Ashe, and his sneer was all that was disgusted. She opened her mouth but he spoke, not looking at her,

"But, even an Imperial pardon does not allow a man to benefit from the crime he had committed and therefore the Bunansa title and estate have been transferred back to the Empire."

Ashe summarized that he had possibly the two worst years of his life, one after the other.

"So why did you visit me? Approaching the castle as a wanted man was a risk. Why return?"

"As I had told m'lady, I was settling my affairs."

"You were planning on restoring your mother's estate?" She wondered. She hadn't seen any signs that he had so much as dusted, let alone started to fix it. Besides, doing so with his leg in its current condition would have been nigh impossible.

"I was planning on dying there."

Another stunned silence from the queen. Here, she openly gaped at him. He met her eye and spoke, his voice light,

"I had settled what little affairs I had left. As a now un-titled man I couldn't afford to keep our city mansion and sold it. Used the majority of the money to pay for final details."

Here she understood the payment for his governess' care. He continued in the same resigned, light tone, "I had visited your majesty with the only object I thought I could give. Something already yours. What would a man like me have to offer a queen, but a reminder of who she was?" He shrugged, not yet knowing if his words had any effect, "Then I left for my mother's estate. The only place my family was ever happy. It was only a matter of time until the bounty hunters caught up with me. It's one thing being wanted and able-bodied, it's another to have increased one's bounty but being unable to run or fight."

"So when we had caught you unawares that evening…" Ashe muttered. He nodded, "I had thought my time was up."

"And the letter?"

"Last will and testament, and all the rubbish." He waved his hand, dismissing it for now.

She still had so many questions, and the shame of her previous feelings towards this courageous man were still felt most keenly. That she did not think of him for the last two years was a truth, but, she supposed, not for the reason he thought. She could not bear to think of him.

Even now, looking at the face that was haggard and pained was pinching at her heart.

"It seems I've much to make up for." She smiled softly at him. He seemed surprised at this,

"M'lady owes me nothing." He was quick to say. "Nothing said here was said in hopes of restitution. I did what I did of my own accord."

"And why did your accord go that way? Dalmasca isn't your city nor your country, least of all your responsibility."

Here he met her eyes again, that cold wit back in his,

"I forget that while you are very brave, my queen, you can also be a little dim."

She drew back at that barb, and he cracked a lopsided grin. Again Penelo proved her uncanny timing. She entered with a tray of breakfast for them all. She had given them ample time to talk, but even her saintly patience had its limits.

A level of tension had somehow evaporated, now that so much was on the table. So many more questions, however, plagued Queen Ashe as she watched the pirate eat his breakfast and make nice with Penelo. The latter obviously had a mountain of affection for the man, probably originating from his daring rescue of her. Ashe participated in the conversation for as much as was polite, but she wondered at her own transformation, as well as Balthier's. Previously he was all witticisms and sarcasm, while now he seemed to teeter between an over abundance of the latter, verging on bitterness, and a reservation in him that was entirely not like him. He was always the type to run, but what was he running away from now, she knew not.

Knowing the horrible truths of how he had felt abandoned by her should have made her feel awful, and on some level it did. Knowing he had lost hopes for living should have made her heart churn. However, the overwhelming feeling was of relief. He hadn't avoided her because he didn't care. He was healing, and angry. All a big misunderstanding. She didn't know they had been trapped in there. Even had she known, the sky fotress continued to burn for weeks. It would have been suicide to attempt to go in there.

She had almost lost a dear friend to her own carelessness. She had been concentrating on the bigger picture of her kingdom so much she had forgotten details. Details like pardoning him, and sorting out the crimes he had committed at her request in Bujerba.

The topic of conversation returned to that dreadful fortress in the backyard of her city. Penelo had expressed a desire to go swimming in the lake, but lamented that boat could not be rented.

"There's nothing to be done." Queen Ashe announced, allowing the swirling questions to ebb as a servant brought them all cups of tea and a bowl fruit, clearing away the breakfast tray. Ashe was not surprised that the man knew the servant's first name. It was just not in her nature, she feared, to notice those small details. She wanted her people to be happy, and felt her job was to concentrate on the everything else. In light of current events, she wondered if she was correct. She continued on topic,

"Dalmasca can ill afford the cost of dismantling that monstrosity, and we cannot very well open it to the public. Guards to protect it, men and women to venture into it, medics to tend to them..."

"Easy!" Balthier exclaimed around a mouthful of the last of his eggs. At the glare Ashe sent him he swallowed a lump.

"At least, the idea I have in my head is easy, princess. I'm sure it'll be a lot more complicated in practice."

"That's a change from the man who told me I was handing my country over to the corrupted rich." She arched a brow at him, and he dabbed his mouth with his napkin to buy himself precious moments to reply.

He was still seated on the bed, leaning back languorously with his injured leg folded to rest beside him on the bed. Ashe had yet the opportunity to ask how it felt today. She gathered since a Cure spell needed to be applied within moments of the injury, that by the time he had gotten such remedy the damage had been done. However, with modern medicine he could have been in a much better state, even after everything. He finished with the napkin, and as Ashe remained silent, he spoke.

"Mercenaries." He said.

At both girls' incredulous stares he added, "Hear me out, princess; Firstly, you'll need not pay an army of guards on the place."

Ashe looked doubtful, "And, what would prevent all those mercenaries from looting the place?"

"They themselves will, of course."

Ashe caught on,

"What mercenary group worth its salt would want to share?" She agreed, nodding, but added, "But the clearing of the place will take generations with just one group at it."

Balthier smiled, enjoying the banter and he had a ready answer, "Of course! That's why it'll be the mercenary group that'll hire other groups to help it. They'll control access, and they'll worry about compensation."

Ashe contemplated this a moment. Penelo looked between the two, learning.

"What's their motivation to not simply sell their findings?"

"Nothing, but that's what you want." He picked some fruit off the breakfast fruit platter, chewing quickly so that he might continue his train of thought, "You're saving a veritable fortune on manpower, so you could afford to offer to buy their worthwhile salvage at a golden price. The metal you could sell for the rebuilding of Rabanastre and Nalbina. The electronics you could give to your researches, or sell back to Archadia."

"The Bahamut _is _Arcadian, though!" Here Penelo piped in, looked aghast at the idea. Baltheir gave her a dazzling smile,

"You think anyone in Arcadia is going to come here and complain about it? Lord Emperor Larsa is itching to find a while to funnel more money to the restoration of Dalmasca, and this will give him a legitimate opportunity to do so."

"What about the technological parts that will end up in the black market?"

Here Balthier studied here a moment before asking,

"Offer enough and they'll turn the exciopnally good stuff to you first. And honestly, do you care if trifling parts end up sold in the black market? Does that harm you in any way?"

It was Ashe's turn to ponder.

"No," She sighed, "I suppose not."

"And, all those hard-working mercenaries…" He picked another fruit, "They'll all have to stay somewhere and eat somewhere and carouse somewhere. A major boost to an ailing tourist economy." His smile was triumphant, and for once Ashe didn't feel like bursting his bubble. His idea did have merits. In fact, it was a brilliant solution to her long-standing dilemma. A solution outside the box of what she would ever have thought of in her capacity as Queen. He seemed most eager to hear her comments and thoughts, so she deigned him with a small smile and said,

"The idea sits well with me. I think I will present a version of it to the senate." Then she added as the thought popped into her head, "You know, you'd make a good king."

It was possibly the only time she had ever seen him truly flustered and surprised. His eyes were like saucers in his head. Penelo's expression was similar, but much more delighted. At their looks, Ashe caught herself giggling.

Balthier relaxed, assumed her joking, the flush receding somewhat from his face. He cleared his throat and looked away, muttering,

"M'lady has a cruel sense of humor."

Penelo rose and cheerfully picked up the breakfast trays. When Ashe tried to tell her that she should call a servant to do it, Penelo laughed and said there was no reason to not do it oneself. They watched her leave, her steps light.

"That girl…" Balthier chuckled to himself. "She'll be driving the staff mad within a week."

"It seems to be heading that way."

There was a long stretch of silence.

Ashe was struggling with herself. Now that she had dug through so much of her emotions, she felt conflicted. There was still agitation and a sense of incompleteness about them. But, there was still that glowing grain of sand around which all emotions spun. She could not yet name it. He made her angry with his flippancy and assumptions, but she felt calmer around him. She recalled that selfsame feeling from while they had travelled together. When he was at her side, she felt… What would be the right word? More confident that they will succeed. A deep rooted sense of comfort and peace. Now, without all the negative associations of war and death, that feeling returned tenfold. If she concentrated enough on it, it would feel almost like a tickle under her ribs. Almost, but not quite, a pleasant nervousness.

"Of what does the queen of Dalmasca, the Dynast Queen and the smiter of Bahamut dwell to bring such a content smile to her face?" Baltheir interrupted her reverie. She realized she had been smiling even as it faded from her lips. She had, apparently, been staring at him absently.

"Why did you do it?" She asked him then. Didn't demand, or yell or frown. "Why did you go into Bahamut?" It wasn't an answer to his question, but she felt she needed an answer for this more than anything. Felt it was the key to all of her jumbled feelings. She felt finally strong enough to ask it, and strong enough to hear his answer.

He tilted his head, studying her for a long moment. He bought himself some time by picking up a piece of pineapple and chewing thoughtfully.

"It's complicated." He said, but she felt he was about to continue. She was right. "The simple answer is that Fran and I were the only two who could have possibly done anything. We were the only ones with the technical understanding of the Glossier rings."

Ashe considered this. It was true and undisputable. But it didn't explain why. Why would a man- the only non-Dalmascan member of her group save Fran- risk life and limb for a country in which they are not only strangers, but wanted criminals? The answer didn't satisfy her. It was too simple. And Balthier was not the type of man to answer to the call of duty in such a manner as endangered his own life to that extent.

"And, the complicated reason?" She met his eyes. Here he averted his, sighed a long sigh. There crept a bitterness unto his face. She had seen it from time to time on his face. Hadn't understood its source.

"M'lady is a well-read woman, I imagine?" He drawled, then met her gaze, "Why do the men in those books do stupendously reckless things?"

At her uncomprehending stare, he sighed again, this time with exasperation, and continued,

"Your husband was killed in the defence on Nalbina," He started, and she blinked at him, confused that it should have any relevance to his actions on the Bahamut. He looked away as he continued, "Your guardian knight had failed to save your father. It was thought he had betrayed you. Your own father murdered signing a surrender treaty no one in Dalmasca wanted. Vossler turned against you at a crucial time..." He paused to take a deep breath, breaking eye contact again to look in his lap. He struck her as very shy all of the sudden. An image she had never associated with him. He looked oddly vulnerable.

"How the men in your life disappointed you, Princess?" He momentarily met her eys, then looked away at the window, "I thought…" He took a shaky breath, "I thought, in my endless presumption, that if there was _any way_ that a man like me could ever win your regard, it would be to show that I would be there for you when your need was at its highest."

She had stopped breathing.

But he was talking in a soft voice, looking into his lap. "What arrogance. Ah, but it is only fitting for the leading man to have unrequited love, is it not?" He shook a little out of his melancholy to give her a lopsided smile that shone with pain. He struck a dramatic pose, "Love makes fools of us all."

Now he waited for her reaction. She just sat there, blinking, barely breathing. Feeling so many things inside her screaming and clamouring for her attention. Too much training made her outer appearance remained the same; poised, composed.

She stood up.

He smiled at her, still rueful and bitter. "Allow me to present you with a good target for your slap." He said, craning his neck and sticking his chin out. He tilted his head to allow her the most advantageous approach to his cheek.

So, when she grabbed him by both sides of the face, forcing him to turn to her so that she may kiss him full on the lips, he was beyond astonished.

He was still sitting down width-wise across the bed, and she stood between is extended feet. The second her lips had fallen upon his she knew. Knew without a doubt.

She had been in love with Rasler. She knew that. Introduced to him when she was 12, after months of trepidation at hearing she was going to meet her betrothed. He was young and handsome and just as nervous as she was. Still, she had given him her young heart and he returned her affection. It was peaceful and comfortable. But Balthier was not a boy, and he was not comfortable and safe. He was very much his own man, never frightened at speaking his mind or pricking her with his sharp wit. Never bowed down or played nice to appease her. There was nothing _compelling _her to love him. No long-standing arrangement, no political connection. As much as she adored her dead husband, she had often wondered if she had fallen for him because she knew it would have made her life easier. Here there was nothing for it. That grain of sand inside her, that elusive emotion erupted into light and life, chasing away all her anger and doubts.

She was in love with Balthier.

Loved him for a long time, perhaps since he had stepped forward, towards an extended blade, and snapped a quip at their would-be captor. Was strong when her resolve faded.

It has been mere seconds since the kiss began, and it took him those precious seconds to come to his senses that he was not dreaming. Immediately then, and with a moan of such need, he pressed his hand into her hair to deepen the kiss. She complied to his need, feeling the softness of his lips, the warmth of his mouth, the slight aftertaste of pineapple.

After dream-like moments they drew back for breath. She was, for the first time in who knows how long, serene and content on the inside was well as the outside.

He looked drunk; flushed in the face and slightly ruffled. His eyes blinking through a haze to settle on hers with a look of profound disbelief. His breathing was hastened and for the longest time, he just stared at her. Beneath that confusion, though, she saw such deep affection, such humble awe, such desire, that she ignored the words that were about to escape his lips and captured them again passionately. This time it took him no time at all to participate just as enthusiastically as she.

When they drew back, at length, he spoke, his voice breathy and hoarse, "I was going to say Penelo is here."

Ashe looked up, startled, to indeed find Penelo at the door. The young woman had turned around to allow them privacy, but was rocking on her heels, waiting for them to be done.

The queen took a step back.

"Errr…" Penelo said, peeking cautiously over her shoulder at the two. Her face was split by an enormous smile. She had been rooting for this all along, after all. "I was going to suggest a quick game of cards, but I think you two already revealed all of yours."

Balthier and Ashe exchange a look as the girl giggled and ran off, cheering, down the hallway.

He was about to speak. A witty quip, by the quirk of his smile. But, the Queen grabbed him one more time. It had been a long time for her, feeling hands on her hips, fingers through her hair, lips on her own. She was Hume, after all. She had needs she herself hadn't realize how strongly she had repressed.

When they drew back again he managed to find his voice,

"Ashe," He said her name, and she wondered if it was the first time he had used it without "The Lady" or "my lady" prefixing it. "Forgive my confusion, but…" He shook his head as if to try and clear it, "But what should I understand from this? I'm not complaining, mind." His face wore the most delighted grin, but there was nervousness around his eyes.

"It means, Balthier, that your tragic 'leading man' theory is not to be. You are required, as complicated as that is."

He blinked once. Twice.

"Was my response not clear enough?" She asked, secretly delighting at how calm her composure must have seemed them, despite the shaking of her hands and knees.

"Your response... " Again he had to take time to form words. If nothing else, she was learning that she absolutely delighted in flustering him, and made a note to do so as often as she could. The Leading Man, always in control, suddenly thrown on the other foot. "Your response was all that was pleasing," He said diplomatically with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes, "But m'lady might be… wanting _something different _from what this humble sky pirate has to offer."

"I wish to depend on you." She replied without hesitation. "I wish to have you in my life at a place where I may continue to do so. A place of…" Here her composure broke for the first time, "...A place of the highest esteem, the highest regard. A place of love, Balthier."

"I presumed you hated me…?" His bewilderment returned, though this time with giddy delight.

"You presume overmuch, pirate. Never tell me my own heart, you know little of it. But we can work to change that." She closed the distance between them again, this time savouring and taking her time.

It was going to be complicated, they had agreed on that much. It was going to be tricky. When he suggested they keep it a secret, she refused. She wanted him in her life, not as the queen's little secret, but as her chosen consort. At his mellow reaction she realized he had yet to even contemplate the ramifications, his brilliant mind addled by her proximity and kisses. She was alright with that. She herself had a lot to think of; she'd need to pardon him, then knight him, and only then could he officially woo her. She'd need to have the royal physician look her his injury first thing upon dragging him back to Dalmasca with her. For now, at this remote location, in Penelo's estate, she placed a firm hand on his chest, forcing him to angle himself and lie down, and she lay down beside him.

The spent long moments just breathing, him on his back, her on her stomach, her head in the nook of his arm.

When she looked up at his face, there was a peace there, a quiet simmer of contentment she understood all too well. There was no sarcasm on his features, no mockery or self loathing. There was tender disbelief and relief. He sensed her eyes on his profile and turned to face her.

"I hope I don't wake up soon to find this all a psychosis of mine."

She pinched him. Hard. And not on the arm. In a very unqueenly place. He yelped and tried to sit up, but she shoved him back down, making herself comfortable again.

"The queen wishes to nap. It is her will that you act as her pillow." She murmurred. He grinned cheekily at her,

"M'lady's wish is my command."

They slept in each other's embrace until Penelo woke them up for lunch. Their world, upon awakening, was forever changed. Transformed into something a bit more magical, a bit more connected to who they had always been.

Him, the loving sky pirate, miserable without her in his life. Her, the queen who took out three coeurls on her own, knowing that there was a man in that tent whom she could always depend on implicitly.

It wasn't the end. It was the beginning.

* * *

><p>Happy new year! This story is over! I hope you enjoyed it, and I wish you the very best of everything in the upcoming year. I might write a sequel to this, although I think the FFXII fanbase isn't very large...<p>

Ever yours,

~LunarBlade


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